


star-uncrossed.

by pinkgrapefruit



Series: i do like you. [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbians, University, nicky is the best person i've ever written, uhaul jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkgrapefruit/pseuds/pinkgrapefruit
Summary: They meet on their first day of college and fall in love. Okay it’s not that simple but they do meet on the first day of college and they do fall in love.
Relationships: Jan Sport/Jackie Cox
Series: i do like you. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679017
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46





	star-uncrossed.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! it's been requested that I both write more JanxJackie ans that I expand the 'I do like you' Universe so her you go! Two birds, one stone, I hope you like it <3

They meet on their first day of college and fall in love. Okay it’s not that simple but they do meet on the first day of college and they do fall in love.

Jan didn’t read the email properly. 

(She’s from Jersey, screw it, she knows New York and she doesn’t need to read some stupid instructions to find her way around.)

She didn’t read the email properly so she ends up outside the Lillian Verge school for International Relations even though she enrolled in Tisch and quite frankly she’s just incredibly confused. And then she meets a sweet girl with dark brown hair and a loosely Canadian accent and she finds herself feeling a little bit less lost.

“You okay?” The stranger asks with a kind smile. “You seem lost.” And Jan smiles because goddamn, only she could be a damsel in distress in a city that she’s known for years.

“Just a little,” she admits as she stares at the name on the buildings signs - hoping maybe they’ll transform and she can just walk into her 10 am seminar on Performance Movement.

The pretty lady chuckles and bows her head. “What school are you in?” She asks, “you don’t strike me as an international relations student.” 

Jan wants to be indignant, play the can’t judge a book by its cover card but she’s dressed in tight leggings and a pair of worn Nikes with a hoodie from her last regional theatre performance and a dance bag slung over her shoulder. She takes a second to look over the brunette and realises that if Jan doesn’t look like an IR major - she most certainly does. She has a white button-down tucked into a pair of light-wash-straight-leg jeans with a beige and red silk bandana in her hair and a leather satchel.

“Tisch,” Jan responds, doing a little twirl for emphasis because if she’s going to be seen as a ditsy blonde theatre major she might as well do it right but the response isn’t what she was expecting.

“Damn, you must have real talent.” The brunette says with genuine sincerity. 

Jan decides she wants to marry her on the spot. 

The woman pulls out her phone and fires off a quick text before she looks at Jan again. “I was just letting my friend know I’ll be late for brunch,” she states quickly as if it is normal to adjust brunch plans for someone you have never met before and then she grabs her wrist and starts walking.

It’s a fourteen-minute walk down ninth street followed by a three-minute walk down the second avenue in which Jan learns both everything and nothing about the stranger. She learns she’s supposed to be meeting her old pen-pal for lunch near Parsons because she’s an international student from Paris, that she’s fluent in French and Farsi and that she’s lived alone in New York for two years since she turned sixteen because she values life experiences over possessions.

In return Jan lets her know that she’s allergic to shellfish, will do anything for a smoothie and is gay as all hell prompting an in-depth discussion about the rights of LGBT people across the world, a topic that Jan was vastly underprepared to discuss at 10:03 on a Tuesday.

They arrive at Tisch with a start and out of breath but Jan has to stand there a minute longer before she can brace herself to go in.

“You look like you carry a pen,” Jan says, causing the Brunette to raise an eyebrow (although she reaches into her back pocket and produces one anyway). Jan grabs her hand and scrawls her number on it in a veritable chicken scratch before she hands it back.

“I’m Jan,” she says with a smile and an open palm. 

“Jackie,” then non-stranger replies.

(Jan starts her first semester at Tisch on a negative grade. It’s worth it.)

*

Jackie texts her at three in the morning asking if she’d like to go for a smoothie tomorrow and Jan replies asking if it will be postponed due to her inhuman kindness. 

(Jackie responds not to bite the hand that feeds you but she’s delirious and there is definitely a french word thrown in there somewhere.)

The brunette is laid across the end of Nicky’s bed waxing poetic about Jan’s blue eyes as she had been for three and a half hours and the Frenchwoman is getting very close to kicking her longest friend out of her dorms and forcing her to walk to her own apartment for the night but she knows there would be no point. 

They’ve been pen pals since they were seven having long rambling conversations in french through decorated envelopes and sticker-covered letters. As they got older the letters for longer and they evolved into care packages too. Boxes would arrive full of foreign candies and stationery and a book here or there. One year, close to Jackie’s birthday, Nicky sent her a pair of fluffy socks and the letter she received back was tear-stained. 

Nicky runs a hand through Jackie’s hair and sighs. 

“”This sounds remarkable simple you know,” She offers up with a wry smile and exasperated tone.

“Yeah but it’s not,” whines Jackie in response as she rolls onto her front and lets out a dramatic sigh. “She’s cute and blonde and knows about gay rights.” 

“I’m cute and blonde and know about gay rights,” Nicky reminds her. 

“Yeah but you’re french,” Jackie responds with her tongue stuck out. 

“God. you’re like Romeo and bloody Juliet, what was it - Star crossed lovers?” Nicky grabs a shirt out of her draw and tosses it so it lands on her friends head. “You’re making it so fucking hard for yourself. You’re basically star-uncrossed lovers. There is literally no issue.”

Jackie presses her face into the duvet and moans. “That made no sense you french son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, but you understood me.” 

(She did and she’s not happy about it. The whole thing is refreshingly uncomplicated and that makes her very nervous.)

*

Jan wakes up and texts Jackie that it is raining. It’s not that she’s never encountered this before - she just feels the need to share it with someone and Jackie seems appropriate. 

Jackie sends back a smiley face and a request for the address of Jan’s dorm and when Jan responds, she tacks on that she will meet her in the lobby at eleven.

Looking at her purple alarm clock, Jan has the realisation that it’s ten am on a Wednesday and she is yet to leave her bed so she rolls out of bed, hits her hand on the drawer of her bedside table, yanks her phone off the charging cable and takes herself to the bathroom she shares with the rest of the floor before deeming that her hair does not need a wash.

(It probably does but it’s dyed a much lighter shade of blonde than it is naturally so she doesn’t want it to fade and she’s not feeling a cold shower this morning.)

By the time she has dressed herself the rain bounces a few inches off the ground and the roads have turned into rivers which is why it is all the more adorable that Jackie meets her in the lobby with a massive black umbrella. She holds her hand up (she’s written Jan on it in black marker) and waves like she’s in an airport which only makes the blonde scrunch her face up in happiness even more.

“Morning!” Jan exclaims with a huge smile and an enduring positivity. 

“Morning Jan,” Jackie smiles back, linking their arms and settling the umbrella above their heads so they can walk through the automatic doors and onto the still busy streets. 

They banter and bicker the whole way through smoothie bowls whether it’s over the best Disney film (Jackie says Beauty and the Beast but is entirely willing to watch them all with Jan to make sure), guilty pleasure foods (Jan waves her EpiPen as she raves about cocktail shrimp) and their respective majors.

By the end of it, Jan’s learnt her fingers fit perfectly between Jackies and she’s just about ready to put down a deposit on a three-bed two-bath house in Harlem.

They wander home in the early afternoon sunshine, fingers loosely intertwined and Jackie realises quickly that they could count quarters together and she’d be entertained. 

They kiss in the lobby and Jan watches the way Jackie’s eyes flit from her lips to her eyes and back down before going in for a second. And then a third. And her mouth tastes like cherry and somehow cinnamon and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to get a smoothie again without recognising the taste.

*

“It’s so easy,” Jan moans with her head on Gigi’s lap. The taller girl is paying very little attention to the blonde but still cards her fingers through her hair occasionally as she sketches a blazer. 

Gigi goes to Parsons but her accommodation got messed up so she ended up next door to Jan and they became friends rather fast. Gigi would define friends as someone she tolerates and Jan would define friends as her heart and soul so they both get everything they want out of the situation. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re an emotionally distant bitch,” Jan asked over pot noodles the day they first met. 

Gigi smiled and said thank you and that was that so now Jan is disregarding any requests for personal space and is quite happy to just exist in Gigi’s gorgeously decorated dorm room and pilfer the french candy that she gets from a ‘friend’ who Jan happens to know is very loud in bed.

“I really don’t see the issue,” Gigi replies, looking down at the blonde with a raised eyebrow. 

“I didn’t expect you to,” Jan states passively. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now stand up so I can measure your proportions.”

*

‘Did you know that in the war, Oscars were made of plaster?’

‘Did you know that the gestation of the Indian Elephant is 22 months?”

‘Did you know I love you?’

*

Turns out it’s absolutely that simple. 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think! <3


End file.
